“It’s hard to dangle dead bait, so I’ll have to wait on the killing. Hopefully not too long, though.”
If being chained up here on the top of his house hadn’t made it clear, it was now. I was a goner. No ward would free me from this.
But bait for who? There was a possibility he wasn’t talking about Ryker. He might have thought I was working with my old crew. Loretta, the double-crossing bitch, would have told him about them. If he didn’t know it was Ryker I was working with, I wasn’t going to hand that information to him. Instead, I sat there silently, hoping he’d reveal more.
He pointed to my shirt, which was torn in the back, the sides flapping in the wind as I held the front to me. “Your back is quite impressive. That’s why you’re going to be dead soon. Some magic is good. Not the amount you have.” He took a few steps and sat on the ledge. One little push and he’d fall to his death, but he didn’t have to worry about that at the moment.
“If you had less, I might’ve been able to spare you. The markings on your back make it clear it’s way more magic than I want around. Too bad. That dragon claw you sold to Loretta will come in handy.”
If I got out of here, she was dead.
He smiled, and I realized my magic might’ve been swelling with my anger. I leaned back and crossed my ankles, as if I were enjoying a morning in the sun.
“Aren’t you afraid to be around the Cursed King?”
“The Cursed King is dead.”
He leaned back and laughed. Even his laugh was horrible.
“I can’t believe you’ve been with Ryker all this time and you didn’t know who he was.”
Okay, so he knew I was with Ryker. But why was he calling him the Cursed King? Everyone knew he was dead. I thought back to Ryker killing all of those people without even laying a hand on them, and I held back. Holy magic, what if he was? Could it be? I couldn’t even hide my shock as I stared, dumbfounded.
Long ago, before the War of 810, when magic first came into being, there were a handful of people who were the first of our kind, the first Wyrd Blood.
When all the other Wyrd Blood were vying for power, there was one Wyrd Blood who hadn’t. People had flocked to him because of that very reason, even though he hadn’t wanted them to. When the first war had come, all the other strong Wyrd Blood got together to move against him because they viewed him as a threat. From the legends, thousands had died in a blink of an eye. It had been such a massacre that the Cursed King’s own people had killed him out of fear of what he could do.
It fit. It all fit. Even now, I could see history repeating itself. He didn’t want people to come. But people found him, his country, and didn’t want to leave. They came the way Ruck, Fetch and Marra had and saw a better life.
And here I was on this roof as bait, probably visible with the field glasses to anyone watching, so they could try and kill him for good this time.
“He’s not coming for me. He doesn’t even like me.”
“That’s not accurate, according to my spies.”
My stomach dipped. If I died here, Ryker would never know he had spies in his country. “You’re wrong. You might as well kill me now.”
“We’ll see.” Harvos stood and left.
By midafternoon, they’d brought me water and a slice of bread. It was just enough to keep my body alive until King Harvos wanted to kill me. Two guards stayed on the rooftop with me, as if they thought I’d fly away somehow. One was a grizzled older man who’d seen enough in his life for the hardness to show in his eyes.
Then there was the younger, dark-haired guy, who didn’t seem to have the same weathered look about him and kept glancing over at me.
After a couple of hours, he walked over and handed me half of the meat he’d been eating for lunch.
I took it with a nod of thanks. There was no room for pride when you were chained to a roof. And if Ryker did come, I’d need to be able to help him if I could.
The guard shrugged in return, knowing it wasn’t that much help to me.
“Hey, Alfred, what are you doing? That meat is for the living. Don’t waste your lunch. We’re here to stand guard.”
Way to kill a meal. I bit into it anyways.
“It’s my ration,” the young man said.
The older man shook his head. “You better hope the king doesn’t catch you doing that, or you’ll be the one dying next.”
The younger guard put some distance between us.
I’d fallen asleep, huddled in a ball, and woke to the sound of a muffled cry. I looked up in time to see a man drop dead to the ground, bleeding. It was the older guard who’d been with me all day.
Ryker stood over him. He’d come. He hadn’t left me here to die.
“It’s a trap,” I said, expecting something to happen at any moment, maybe a horde of soldiers to appear.
“I already took care of that.” He bent, searching the guard’s pockets for a key.
I looked past Ryker to see another body lying on the ground. I relaxed when it was another older guard and not the young one who’d tried to share his food.
Ryker pulled a key from the guard’s pocket, walked over to me, and undid the manacle.
He smiled. “You look as dirty as the first day I met you.”
I’d never been so happy to be insulted in my life. “And you’re just as charming.”
The second the manacle came off, he pulled me to my feet. There was a second hesitation before he wrapped his arms around me but then released me just as quickly.
My fingers bit into his arm. “Is Burn alive?”
He smiled. “A bit whiny, but hanging in there.”
I nodded and looked around the roof again. We were the only ones left alive up here, but I knew King Harvos had a lot more men. “How are we getting out of here?”
“We’re going to walk.” He took my hand and wrapped it around his arm, then stared at me. “You need to keep contact with me at all times, but don’t juice me. If you do, it could be very bad.”
I swallowed and nodded. I had a really bad feeling about how this was going to go down.
I gripped his arm, and he wrapped his hand over mine.
“Whatever you see, don’t unlink. If you do, you’ll die. And try and be quiet. I don’t want to have to kill the entire country.”
Please, don’t let there be a lot of people, please.
“You ready?”
I nodded, and we headed toward the stairs.
As we walked, I saw more dead guards, and none had obvious wounds. The rest were lying there dead but appeared untouched.
The pieces fit together. Ryker hadn’t been able to use his magic to kill the one closest to me, or he might’ve killed me as well. There was little denying it now. I was walking out of here with the Cursed King, the deadliest Wyrd Blood to have ever lived.
We walked through, and I tried to not look at the other five dead bodies we passed.
Our luck held until we got to the edge of Bedlam, where another guard was bent over, checking a soldier lying dead at his feet.
He stood and turned. It was my young guard, the one who’d helped me.
“Don’t kill him,” I said to Ryker, digging my nails into his arm. “He shared his food with me.”
“If you call for help, everyone within fifty feet will die and we’ll still walk out of here,” Ryker warned the guard.
He looked at me and then back to Ryker. “Can I come with you?”
“We have to take him,” I said without hesitation.
Ryker looked at me as if to ask if I was kidding.
“We have to.” I could see the second he relented.
“Fine. He’ll have to take my other arm until we get further out.”
“Why?” the kid asked.
“No time for questions, and no matter what you see, do not let go. Do you understand?” Ryker stared at the boy with a hard gaze.
The kid grabbed Ryker’s arm without hesitation. “As long as I’m out of here, I’ll do anything.”
The three of us walked away from Bedlam, and I knew one of us was gripping Ryker’s arm hard enough to leave bruises. I glanced at the young guard—or maybe both of us.
It wasn’t until we neared the spot of the planned trap that I saw how horribly King Harvos’ plans had worked out. There were a good fifty soldiers lying dead right outside the country’s border.
Chapter 35